The White Steed
by DragonsDeadAndDancing
Summary: The two mightiest beings of Cyrodiil face two equally worthy enemies. Beware, the White Steed and its Rider are coming!


_AN: How do you call this? Crackfic? Me and a friend were talking and somehow we came up with this. And another once wanted to see Janus beating up the one he's beating up in this fic, so there you both go!_

_Please leave your sanity here; you can pick it up later again when you're done reading this._

_Everything but the plot belongs to Bethesda. They probably wouldn't want it anyway._

* * *

><p>For a few moments, Janus Hassildor thought he had simply gone mad. <em>It would be understandable<em>, he mused; he had been stricken with vampirism for half a century and spent almost all of it in his castle, grieving for his wife. Now, finally Rona had found peace, but it had been a heartbreaking experience nonetheless. Combined with the necromancers invading his court, and the Oblivion gates opening all around his city and threatening his people, nobody could possibly hold it against him if he went slightly insane.

Shum gro-Yarug was standing next to him, yawning and wearing a nightgown with flower embroidery at the hem, which only made Janus doubt his own sanity further. But Hal-Liurz seemed real enough, still in her formal attire; the Argonian needed less sleep than the Count himself, it seemed.

The unicorn snorted.

Ah, the unicorn. It was the reason Hassildor had been called outside to the stables after a peasant had alarmed the city guard, who in turn went to Hal-Liurz. Since a few hours of moonlight were left, she had deemed it appropriate to inform the Count. It seemed real enough if a bit dramatic: blinding white fur with a few grey dapples at the shoulders, streaming mane, a horn as long and sharp as a sword jutting from its skull between its eyes. But believable. The horses in the paddock thought so too and huddled together as far away as possible in a nervous mass of dark fur.

Sadly, this also meant Shum's nightgown was real. Maybe the orc had thought the embroidery wouldn't be visible in the darkness with only a few torches burning but had forgotten the vampire's superior night vision.

_And what am I supposed to do now?_ asked the Count himself. The unicorn was easy enough to deal with; it would probably be gone in the morrow, either of its own volition or hunted by the last Daedra roaming the County. The gates were closed and the Lighting of the Dragonfires tomorrow would finally seal the barrier between Oblivion and Tamriel, but a few creatures had managed to escape and were still terrorizing his people. What about the nightgown, the real problem? Maybe he could burn it during the day and have a quiet word with Shum about the dresscode for a...

A shill neigh interrupted his train of thought. The vampire sighed and focused on the unicorn. It was pacing, throwing its head around, churning the ground with its big hooves. Almost as if it wanted to tell him something...Well, it was worth a try. He had been quite good with horses when he'd still been alive.

"Stay back", he commanded to Hal-Liurz, Shum, and his two personal guards. Then he approached the unicorn. He stroked its soft muzzle. "What's up, boy?", he murmured.

The unicorn suddenly lowered its head and pressed its horn into Hassildor's palm. He received a flood of pictures, most of them filled with flames, screaming, dying people and general mayhem. "Are you sure?", he asked.

The unicorn shot him a _look _from one ink-black eye and snorted.

Janus sighed and looked towards his city. Its high walls blocked the view directly east, but he could swear the sky just above the horizon to the left and right was ever so slightly brighter than the rest. "Well, then we have to hurry. Steady, boy." He managed to get on the unicorn's back, which seemed impossibly broad. Once up, he nodded towards Hal-Liurz and Shum. "I'll be back." Then he reached for the reins, found none - _Damn..._ -, and grabbed the unicorn's mane.

_Maybe I'm insane after all._

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><p>The ride was far, far from pleasant. The Count hadn't ridden since his life as a mortal, and even then never without saddle or bridle. His lower body radiated pain and numbness in alternating patters while the unicorn's tireless hooves steadily ate the miles between them and the sun.<p>

_Don't think about the sun_, he scolded himself. The sky seemed to become lighter and lighter with every step they took eastwards, until he was sure it would rise any given moment. His skin began to prickle and tingle and he could only resist the urge to scratch because he needed both his hands to hold onto the unicorn's mane.

Finally, they emerged from the forest and reached the Ring Road around Lake Rumare. The Imperial City was standing tall and bright in the coming dawn, white walls glowing.

The unicorn _accelerated_. The Count could see a guardsman atop his horse, passing in a blur, and suddenly they were on the bridge that led to the city. He quickly thought about leaving his steed at the stables, but that didn't seem like a good idea. The owner was known for eating her charges, although in the unicorn's case probably the opposite would happen. Besides, it wasn't as if he could get off.

Once they had passed through the gates under the guards' confused glances, the unicorn slowed down. Janus took the opportunity and grabbed the arm of a woman hurrying past. "Where is the - argh!" All of a sudden, the sun had decided to rise and so did the blisters on the vampire's skin.

Her answer consisted of a rather controlled scream - "Aaah!" - and her finger pointing towards a huge pillar of smoke rising from the Temple of the One.

Janus nodded, said: "Thank you, ma'am," - too many vampires forgot common courtsey in these days - and headed with the unicorn towards the fire. Already they encountered various Daedra, which quickly fell to the Count's spells. Even with the sun up, he was still a mighty mage and they were no match for him.

The Temple District was on fire. All kinds of Daedra were pouring out of several gates that had opened in the ruins of the temple. A four-armed giant, probably an embodiment of Mehrunes Dagon, was busily kicking the buildings apart - hopefully including the home of the shrew Alessia Ottus who had the nerve to say he 'shamefully neglects his chapel devotions to the Nine'.

The unicorn took control over their path again and, trampling over an unfortunate group of scamps, headed for the temple.

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><p>Martin looked in despair at the towering giant. Even if he managed to light the Dragonfires now, it would be too late - Dagon had entered Nirn, and unless he sacrificed everything - everything he had fought for -, Tamriel would not survive.<p>

He turned towards his companion, his champion, his hero. Even covered in blood, she looked unbelievably beautiful, and his heart ached at the thought of leaving her behind.

"I have no choice", he said softly.

She turned around, tears of fierce defiance in her eyes. "What do you mean? Come on, light the Fires!" But he could see that, deep in her heart, she already knew.

"I'm sorry." He placed his hand on her soft cheek and wiped a tear away as it escaped her huge blue eye.

"No. No, Martin, you can't do this, I can't-"

Her lips tasted like ash and smoke and, underneath, like dew and roses. Their kiss seemed to last for an eternity, yet only moments passed outside of their little world. "Go", he whispered as they separated. "Please. I ca't do this if I don't know you're sa-"

A shrill neigh interrupted them. Martin whirled around to see a huge, blinding white horse jump over a piece of rubble. Atop its back, a rider sat, who shot them a quick glance and then began firing spells at the avatar of Dagon.

His skin seemed to smoke.

* * *

><p>Janus saw the couple huddled together in the corner, but he only realized who they were as the woman squinted at him. Her mouth formed a word - was it 'Hassy?' ? Oh, hopefully it wasn't -, the Count thought <em>Stendarr have mercy, not <span>her<span>!_ and the unicorn charged.

Between one lightning spell and the next, something unbelievable happened: Rays of light in all colours of the rainbow - nay, in all imaginable colours plus some - began to shoot out of his steed's horn. He could feel the sun's damaging influence on him lessening with every beam that emerged from the unicorn's horn. His strength returned and with it his fury at the Daedric Prince who had tried to destroy his city and his people - they were his and his alone, and no Dagon could simply come and fool around with them! With more power than ever his spells found their target in the looming giant and his minions, while the unicorn's magic swirled around them, ripping enemies apart.

The strength of the two most powerful beings in Cyrodiil was too much for Mehrunes Dagon's body. When a bright pink beam entered the giant's backside and a lightning his chest, he simply exploded.

And Time seemed to stop for a moment.

Janus saw pictures...old, fond memories of him and Rona. There were more distorted images, probably the unicorn's, of fighting a snarling, skin-less beast, of being caged in paddocks that had locks but no keys, of bloodlust and fury. And there were things that made no sense, pink clouds and a man-shaped porcupine arcing through the air.

With a bodiless voice chuckling, the world became normal again. He was back atop his steed, pieces of Dagon's body falling from the air. One bounced off his head. When he caught it in his hand, he saw it had been transformed to...cheese?

Well, weirder things had happened that day. At least all the Daedra had vanished with their master, and in the scratched basin in the middle of the temple, a fire burned. It was the same colours as the unicorn's magic light. Who was this One anyway, Talos or Alessia or Lorkhan? Maybe the people would rebuild the ugly building in honour of their saviours.

_Priorities,_ he reminded himself, sliding off the unicorn's back. The man standing next to the Hero in torn blue robes, clutching something big, probably was the Emperor. He looked almost offended, maybe because Janus had caught them kissing. But he wasn't one to talk, with his skin beginning to smoke again.

"Your Grace," he said and bowed absentmindedly, his mind already working at the next problem.

He still didn't know what to do about Shum's nightwear.


End file.
